The Adventure on Desert World
by jsk
Summary: Picard is trapped on a desolate Desert Planet


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DISCLAIMER: "Star Trek" is the copyrighted by Paramount, and Paramount  
owns Star Trek and the Star Trek Universe. The following story is   
not-for-profit.  
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The Adventures of Jean-Luc Picard  
=================================  
  
The Adventure on Desert World  
-----------------------------  
(c) Jasjit Singh, May 1999  
  
"Commander! Wake up! Commander Picard!"  
  
The voice came to his ears faintly at first, from the depths of his  
dreams, and then it became louder and louder as he rose to the surface of  
consciousness. He stirred, and then opened his eyes slowly, realizing  
stiff and aching joints, and a throbbing pain his side.  
  
Leaning over him was an anxious looking Klingon warrior. Picard looked  
around him. He was in a cave of sorts, it looked more like hollowed-out  
rock. Dim light was provided by Federation lanterns which were placed  
about the wide cavern to provide illumination. There was a heightened  
sense of activity as the few Federation and Klingon officers in the cave  
hurried around, loading rifles and setting up blockades. To the left of  
the cave was a wide entrance which let in stark bright light.  
  
The Klingon seemed pleased to see Picard awake and alive, for he grinned.  
"What, what happened?" asked Picard, only now noticing his encrusted and  
blood-stained uniform.  
"Our attack was not successful. But we cut down their numbers  
significantly. You fought bravely, Commander. You took down ten of their  
men single-handedly. You must be a Klingon!"  
A sharp pain in his left side brought back the memory of the battle.  
Looking down he noticed a bandage tied around his midsection, now red with  
soaked blood.  
"Captain Kiang?" he asked, looking back up at the Klingon, whose name he  
now remembered was Koval. Weapons Officer Koval, aboard the Klingon  
ship Kh'ttrnaak. Koval shook his head.  
"The Captain was killed in battle. He died honorably."  
  
Picard nodded, knowing that this was enough for a Klingon to know. He  
struggled into a sitting position, with the help of Koval. The pain in   
his side spiked and almost sent him into unconsciousness again, but he  
gritted his teeth, and held on.  
"Whats, whats happening now?" he asked, a little breathlessly, clutching  
his side.  
"They are preparing to attack. They found the location of our camp. It  
will be soon."  
Koval's eyes were scanning the men, human and Klingon, as they set up the  
blockade and took up position, rifles and phasors aimed, batleths at the  
ready. In his mind he was assessing the casualty rate, and chances of  
successfully holding against the enemy onslaught. Picard saw that there  
was no light in his eyes. His assessment did not predict victory.  
  
  
"Give me a phasor," said Picard, struggling to his feet. Koval stared at  
him in amazement.  
"Commander, you are not fit for battle!" he protested. As Picard got onto  
his feet the pain shot up once again, but other than wincing, he showed no  
signs of it.  
"Give me a phasor, Koval!" he repeated, "It's no use for me if we all die  
here. We need to hold this position against the attack. There is no  
place to fall back! There are not enough men as it is."  
  
After a pause, Koval nodded, and handed Picard his phasor rifle. He  
produced a hypospray as well, and grinned.  
"Didn't expect a Klingon to be carrying around one of these, did you?" he  
joked, as he injected Picard in the arm with a strong dose of pain killer.  
  
Picard hobbled across to the mouth of the cave, where the Klingon and  
Starfleet officers had set up a defense post. He dropped to his knees and  
began adjusting the phasor rifle. The only cover were some rocks that had  
been piled waist high. They would not last for very long against  
disrupter fire, but it was something at least.  
  
Scanning the barren land before him, Picard knew they were lucky to have  
found the cave; it offered shelter, and hid them from the prying sensors  
of the enemy. Below, and all about, lay a desolate wasteland. A sweeping  
desert with sandstorms and whirlwinds of fury. This entire small planet  
was a vast and endless desert. No life thrived here. The mean surface  
temperature was 48.89 degrees Celsius. It was almost unbearable for the  
humans, but the Klingons were able to withstand the heat. It was the  
dryness which gave them the most trouble. The Klingon homeworld, Q'onos,  
was a moist and humid world. Klingons were not accustomed to dry climate.  
The cave was cooler, and it had a source of fresh water, which ran in deep  
ravines underground. With some carefully orchestrated phasor fire, the  
officers were able to persuade one of those streams to run upwards, to the  
surface, and supply them with the much needed water.  
  
  
And now the enemy had located them. Picard adjusted his viewfinder to the  
correct resolution, and sat at the ready. Koval came up behind him, with  
a shawl.  
"Here," he said, handing it to Picard, "cover your mouse and nose with  
this. Those winds tend to whip up suddenly. You don't want to get caught  
inhaling sand while under fire."  
Picard nodded and took the shawl. Koval was about to move to the next  
soldier, when he stopped and turned back to Picard. He produced his  
dagger from his belt. Holding the blade, he presented it to Picard.  
"Take this, Commander," he offered, "you may need it."  
"Thank you Koval," Picard nodded as he accepted the weapon. As Koval  
moved on to the other soldiers, Picard concealed the dagger inside his  
right boot, just above his ankle. The cold steel of the blade felt rigid  
against his skin. He permitted himself a small grin, it was comforting to  
have the secret weapon as his ally. Then he covered mouth and nose with  
the shawl, and sat at the ready, eyes scanning the horizon.  
  
  
It was not a long wait for the enemy. It began by small dots appearing on  
the sandy brown surface. That was followed by more black dots, which grew  
larger every minute. Soon a large number of soldiers were visible,  
walking across the dunes, carrying rifles in their hands, converging upon  
their location. They wore helmets to protect them from the whipping desert  
winds, but other than their cloth uniforms, had no other protection for  
the rest of their bodies. They walked slowly, as the winds were very  
strong, and very unpredictable. But they walked determinedly.  
  
Koval and Picard witnessed their progress across the sands.  
"It almost seems like a medieval war," Picard commented. "Without any of  
their technology, they are reduced to walking towards the battlefield.  
And so are we."  
"Ahh, but we have the advantage. We are at an elevated position," said  
Koval. "As soon as they are within firing range, we can eliminate several  
of their number."  
Picard nodded in agreement. "However, they must have a plan for taking  
this refuge. I don't believe they are planning a simple frontal attack."  
"I agree. That would be too straightforward for these devious soldiers.  
I will send a scout."  
  
When the scout returned, out of breath and covered in desert sand, with  
his hair in a mess and eyes wild from the exhiliration of being out in the  
desert wind, he had bad news to report.  
"They are coming in from the south as well," he said, in between breaths,  
as he squatted before Picard and Koval, making his report. "They are  
smaller in number, but they have more firepower. And they are carrying  
some equipment. It could be sub-units from their crashed ship, but I was  
not able to tell exactly what."  
"Communications device?" Picard quizzed Koval urgently.  
"Possibly. Or a weapon of sorts," speculated Koval.  
"The south troops are not that well armed. They will likely wait for the  
frontal assault to run its course before they make a move. They are  
obviously planning on taking the cave. We need some sort of distraction,  
to throw off their timing, put them off course, something."  
"What if we blockaded their path?" suggested the ensign who had  
been out scouting.  
  
Picard looked down the steady rocky slope which eventually vanished into  
smooth brown sand. Behind them, on the other side, the embankment was  
much steeper, and would be a more difficult climb to make.  
"We need matter to block their path," Picard spoke quickly.  
"Rocks, boulders, anything. Judging from their progress on the north  
side, we will not have any time to move anything out of here. We must  
create the blockade from whats available back there. Ensign, how bearable  
is the terrain."  
The sand-coated ensign shrugged with a helpless grin.  
"It's windy, sir," he confessed, "but we should be able to manage."  
Picard nodded. "Take four men. I want you to see to it that the  
embankment is unclimbable from the bottom. When we are finished down  
here, we will join you at the top."  
"Aye sir!" He rose to his feet, selected his men, and was gone.  
  
  
Soon afterwards, the enemy was within firing range. Picard and the rest  
of the men were in position, weapons aimed upon their targets. They  
followed the enemy soldiers on their scopes as they came marching up  
towards the incline that led to their refuge. The ground became rocky  
here, and was more stable, allowing the soldiers to break into a run.  
They were also somewhat protected from the lashing wind by the looming  
rock in front of them.  
"Steady," Picard called out to the men, gently placing a finger upon the  
trigger of the phasor rifle. His palms were clammy with sweat. But his  
hands did not quiver. He did not blink.  
  
"Steady...."  
  
  
"Steady...."  
  
One of the men cursed under his breath.  
"They're almost on us!" cried another. By now they could hear the shouts  
of the enemy soliders as they began their charge up the increasingly steep  
slope. Picard held his breath. They were not in range yet. Another  
second, and ...   
  
"Fire!" he yelled, and instantly a barrage of fire left the Federation and  
Klingon lines. As the first Romulan soldier fell, they returned fire with  
equal ferocity. The man who sat next to Picard was thrown back amid a  
torrent of blasted rock and disruptor fire. With an ear-piercing scream  
he landed ten feet behind Picard, blood and scorched flesh covering his  
uniform. Picard glanced back at him, and even as he turned back to his  
rifle a Romulan came flying up and struck him.  
  
Picard sprawled back onto the ground, the rifle lost. The Romulan landed  
on top of him, and pointed his hand weapon at Picard's head. He readied  
the weapon to fire...  
  
...just as Picard reached down for Koval's knife, and thrust it savagely  
into the Romulan's mid-section. Blood spurted out and stained Picard's  
hands, the Romulan's eyes rolled back, and he fell limp on top of Picard.  
  
Picard struggled and writhed his way out from underneath the dead Romulan,  
and gasped desperately for air. All around him was phasor and disruptor  
fire. Pieces of rock were flying everywhere, and men were falling every  
second. Picard crawled away from the Romulan corpse and looked for Koval.  
There was no sign of him. Romulan soldiers were everywhere. They had  
stormed the defence lines, and were mingling with the Klingon and  
Starfleet soldiers, engaged in lethal hand-to-hand combat. One of the  
Romulans noticed Picard and ran towards him. Picard rose to his feet, one  
hand clutching his side, where the pain had grown and now was almost  
intolerable. His vision was beginning to get blurred. Out of a haze he  
saw the Romulan come towards him, holding up a weapon. There was a  
delicious evil smirk on his face. Picard blinked, but found that he was  
having trouble keeping his balance. He took a step back, and crouched.  
If he was going to make an attack, it must be now.  
  
But a blow from behind sent him reeling. Looking up with his failing  
vision he saw two Romulan soldiers looking back down at him, the grinning  
one, and the one who had attacked him.  
  
  
As night fell.  
  
  
In the void of darkness, the voices, screaming, shouting, and phasor fire  
all faded away. There was silence. Pure, black, silence. He heard his  
own heart beating. It was irregular. Perhaps the mechanical heart had  
taken some damage. If his heart failed now, there was no hope for him.  
Despair. What of the men, what of Koval? He would surely fight till the  
death. If anyone could hold the line, it was Koval. But the Romulans had  
broken through. They would be coming in from the south as well, and  
setting up their communications device or weapon or whatever it was.  
Darkness. Death, would it come swiftly? He waded around in the blackness  
of his own despair, turning this was and that, opening invisible doors but  
only finding more blackness. There was no escape, no way out. There was  
only one inevitable conclusion. Death. The end. From somewhere deep  
below, as if coming from the pit of some dreaded monster, a wailing howl  
arose. It began low and distant at first. But soon it became loud. He  
clapped his hands to his ears, trying to shut it out, but it simply became  
louder and louder. He shook his head, he cried tears, he fell before the  
awful sound of despair...  
  
...and then there was a light. He looked at it, blinded, weary,  
shivering. There was a hope with the light, for it dispelled the sound,  
the cancer, the darkness. He looked up at it, and reached a hand out.  
There *was* a way out. And before him was the image of someone he knew.  
A familiar face. Someone he had met. Not too long ago. He struggled to  
recognize who it was. Who had come to provide tenderness and compassion  
for him. A flash of long red flowing hair. That smile....that smile.  
And his tension eased....he let go, and fell; a long fall, and she caught  
him--  
  
"Commander!"  
The feel of cool water being applied to his lips brought him to with a  
start. Picard looked around. It was dark, almost pitch black. Somewhere  
nearby the sound of trickling water came to his ears. He was propped up  
against a small boulder which sat againt a moist rock wall. Before him  
sat Koval, giving him water from a flask. But he could not see anything  
else. It was too dark.  
"Koval," Picard said in a hoarse voice. "Where, are we?"  
"Inside the cave, we are underground," Koval seemed proccupied. "I am glad  
to see that you live, Commander Picard."  
Picard looked up as Koval sat back on his haunches.  
"What," A racking cough seized him. After it had subsided, "what  
happened?"  
Koval looked aside.  
"Tell me, Koval," Picard pleaded, "what happened?"  
Koval's shoulders seemed to sag down, as if a great weight was suddenly  
placed upon him. He sighed, and then spoke in a sad, angry voice.  
  
"They were all killed. You and I, we are the only ones who are left  
alive. The Romulans, they *did* have a weapon. But they were not  
planning to use it after taking the cave. They used it during the attack.  
We expected them to come from the south. They instead set up a post at  
the foot of the south slope, where they activated their weapon. It  
created a dampening field of quaerthon particles, which rendered our  
phasors useless against them. We could fire, but there would be no  
detrimental effect against them. Their disruptors, however, were not  
affected by this field. And so their attack was successful.  
  
"When I learned of the weapon I made my way to the south slopes, where we  
destroyed the weapon. But it was too late."  
  
Koval buried his head in his hands.  
  
"And, there is noone else? At all?" Picard ventured hesitantly.  
"No, Commander. Everyone was killed. You were still alive, though  
unconscious. I managed to bring you here. They are still looking for us,  
the Romulans. They send out search parties of two men every fifteen  
minutes, to search these caves. But it is a vast network of tunnels and  
passageways. I have been able to avoid them thus far."  
  
Picard noticed that Koval had sustained injuries. The warrior had  
bandaged himself quite well, though, and stopped the bleeding. His arms  
and upper torso were cut in several places. He also had a fresh scar on  
his face, a souvenior of the battle he had just fought.  
  
Picard pulled himself into a sitting position.  
"We must get out of here," he said to Koval.  
"They have the entrance blocked," replied Koval.  
"Every problem has a solution, every puzzle an answer. It's just a  
matter of finding it. Koval, it is our obligation to escape."  
Koval looked up at him.  
"What do you propose?"  
"If there is another way out of here..."  
"We'll get to the surface. There is a sandstorm out there."  
"We need a communications device. We need to get off this planet."  
"And we cannot accomplish any of our objectives, because we have neither a  
transport nor a comm system."  
  
Koval shook his head at the helplessness of their situation. In another  
ten or twelve minutes the Romulan search party would be coming out again,  
with weapons fully charged. Suddenly, Koval laughed.  
"Do you know, you talk in your slumber, Picard?" he queried. Picard was  
somewhat taken by surprise. But the change from thoughts of their  
dreadful future was a welcome one, and he availed himself of it.  
"No, I was not aware," replied Picard.  
"You spoke all sorts of nonsense..." Koval was laughing again.  
"I hope I didn't give away any Federation secrets," Picard let himself be  
influenced by Koval's joviality and grinned.  
"No, you did not speak of anything that was sensitive..."  
  
And after a while, when they had quieted down and sunk back into their  
thoughts, Koval asked in a sober voice:  
"Who is Beverly?"  
"Beverly?"  
"Yes, you spoke her name as well. Several times."  
"She, ah, is an acquaintance. Someone I met aboard the Stargazer."  
Koval nodded, and they fell into silence again.  
  
Several minutes passed by in silence. And then they heard voices, distant  
at first, but getting nearer every second.  
"The Romulan soldiers," whispered Koval, picking up a phasor rifle he had  
set down next to him. He motioned to Picard to stay silent, and then he  
moved into the darkness stealthily.  
  
Picard stayed in darkness for a few tense seconds, while the voices drew  
nearer. And then suddenly, the voices were raised in alarm. He heard  
disruptor fire, and then there was silence.  
"They got him," he thought to himself. There had been no phasor fire. He  
was able to distinguish the sound of a Federation phasor rifle firing.  
And he had not heard that. All he had heard was a Romulan disruptor.  
  
He scrambled up, the pain in his side shooting up again, acutely. He  
grimaced, clutched his side painfully. Phasor, he needed a phasor. He  
kicked around on the rocky floor in vain. There was nothing within reach.  
There was a scuffling sound in front of him, and then Koval appeared,  
drenched in blood, a victorious grin on his face, holding up two Romulan  
disruptors.  
"How did you...?" Picard asked, astonished.  
"The element of surprise, Commander," answered Koval, still grinning. And  
then, he said, "We have two dead Romulan soldiers lying not far from here.  
Luckily for us, they were uniformed. Can you walk?"  
Picard saw his plan. He nodded, even though he could barely stand.  
"I can walk," he said through clenched teeth.  
  
Koval nodded, and disappeared again into the darkness. He returned  
shortly afterwards with the uniforms. They quickly changed into them,  
Picard stopping frequently to alleviate his pain. Finally, they donned  
the safety helmets that the soldiers had worn outside to protect them from  
the desert winds. Koval hid the bodies nicely out of view, and then,  
taking up the disruptors, and Picard leaning against Koval for support,  
they hobbled out towards the main cave entrance.  
  
It was a shorter distance than Picard had initially thought, although the  
hiding place had been well-situated, so that it was difficult to find.  
The main cave now was occupied by several Romulan soldiers, who were busy  
at work. Bright lights hung from the cave ceiling, as the men below  
performed their duties. Some were working on inventory, others readying  
weapons, some other tending the wounded soldiers, and finally a few were  
salvaging what was worth from dead Federation and Klingon soldiers, who  
were piled high in a heap at the mouth of the cave.  
  
Both Picard and Koval shuddered at the sight of the massive pile of  
corpses. But they steeled themselves against emotion, realizing that if  
they were not careful, they might be joining their fallen comrades.  
  
Picard stood as best he could without the aid of Koval, and they both  
stalked into the center of the cave. The Romulan soldiers were busy at  
their duties, and scarcely afforded them a glance. The bright light of  
the cave was getting nearer with each step. Picard was getting more and  
more anxious. The pain in his side was unbearable, but he gritted his  
teeth and forced himself on by sheer determination. Koval walked close  
beside him, quiet, tense, alert.  
  
Once, Picard stumbled. But he grabbed onto Koval's arm and steadied  
himself. They looked around. Noone had seemed to care. There were  
wounded Romulan soldiers as well, some walking, some limping. The only  
thing that was odd about Koval and Picard was that they had their helmets  
on. None of the Romulan soldiers had their helmets on inside the cave.  
  
As they approached the mouth of the cave, they were stopped by a Romulan  
soldier carrying a disruptor rifle.  
"Halt!" he called, barring their way. And then, he looked at them  
curiously.  
"Officers, your designation and directive, please?" he said, in a more  
controlled tone.  
Koval looked at Picard, and Picard began pointing to his chest and  
gesticulating.  
"Speak, Officer, is there a medical problem?" Now the Romulan soldier  
seemed concerned. He looked at Picard curiously. Picard nodded  
emphatically.  
"Why do you not speak? You, explain his condition!"  
The disruptor rifle pointed towards Koval. Koval looked at Picard, and  
then turned back to the Romulan, who began to back away a few paces, the  
rifle level at them.  
  
"Commander Rasat!" The Romulan called to his commanding officer. It was  
the split second he took to divert his eyes as he called for his  
commanding officer that Koval needed to whip out the disruptor and fire  
it. The Romulan vanished amid a horrible shriek.  
  
Behind them there was an instant clamour. Romulan soldiers had begun  
arming themselves. They were heading towards Picard and Koval. But the  
way ahead of them was clear. Open desert.  
  
Picard swung around, and threw his disruptor into the cave. It's loud  
whine alerted everyone inside that it was set on overload. Men ran and  
shouted and ducked behind any shelter they could find, rock or passageway  
or supply crate. Meanwhile Koval and Picard stumbled and ran and fell  
down the long slope into the sands below.  
  
The explosion rocked the cave and it's internal passageways. There was a  
large internal collapse, and several rocks and boulders came crashing down  
the slope, amid tumbling corpses of Romulan soldiers. Koval came to and  
looked around for Picard, who lay a few meters away, immobile. Koval  
crawled over to Picard.  
"Commander Picard," he shouted, over the roar of the crashing rocks and  
the explosion. Picard did not respond. Koval looked up, assessed the  
situation, and then lifted Picard up onto his back, and ran away from the  
debris and falling matter.  
  
  
In the desert, there was no shelter. There was no water, no shade, no  
resting place, and no cover from the blistering sun or the whipping desert  
winds. After eight hours of walking, when he could walk no more, the  
Klingon set down the Federation Officer and collapsed beside him. He  
looked up at the bright sky.  
"This is not how I envisioned my passage into Stovl-Koh'r," he sighed.  
Exhausted, he closed his eyes. Around them, the desert wind blew and sent  
the sand up in swirls and twists. If they stayed where they were, they  
would be buried underneath the sands very soon.  
  
Koval struggled to remain conscious. He battled fatigue. Crawling, he  
dragged the prone body of Picard with him, across the dunes. He did not  
know if Picard was alive anymore. He was close to death himself. He  
battle injuries were worsened by his fall from the cave, during which he  
had broken four ribs. He had begun to bleed again, and this time it was  
not stopping. And lack of water had worsened his situation. His lips  
were dry and his mouth was parched. His vision was not clear. And the  
dryness of the desert was taking it's toll on him. He was not accustomed  
to it and could not adapt well. But he stuggled on.  
  
Over another dune.  
  
And still more brown sand as far as the eye could see.  
  
"We would have been better off being destroyed by the Romulans," Koval  
muttered under his breath. And then he heard a shout. He turned around  
abruptly to look over his shoulder, and saw a solitary figure perched on  
the top of the dune he had just crawled over. It was a Romulan. So his  
wish would come true after all. The soldier looked keenly at them, as if  
unsure. Koval realized that he and Picard still wore the Romulan uniforms  
and helmets. He waved enthusiastically to the soldier.  
  
The man prepped his rifle and aimed. Koval grunted.  
"Should've known," he said to himself, "a Romulan would never *wave* back  
at another Romulan." -- And then, with a sigh -- "so be it. It is for the  
best."  
He stumbled to his feet, determined to die in battle. Pulling the  
disruptor from his belt, he took aim at the soldier. The figure atop the  
sand dune was startled, so much so that he was momentarily thrown off  
guard, and lost his aim. As he was recovering his sights, Picard's  
communicator, which he had kept from his Federation uniform, beeped and a  
voice crackled over it.  
"Commander Picard, Khalid from the Stargazer here ..." -- static cut out a  
lot of what was said, but a few phrases could be discerned -- "standoff  
over with the Romulan ship ... have left orbit ... managed to cut through  
the disturbance ... only a window of a few seconds .... will beam you  
out....stand by."  
  
The Romulan fired. Koval fired.  
  
They were being energized.  
  
The disruptor beam reached Koval and danced temptingly at him. It touched  
his chest, teasing. He growled.  
  
Picard was on the floor of the transporter pad. And Koval was standing, a  
feeling of hotness on his chest. He looked down to see the uniform singed  
black, but he was unharmed.  
  
Seeing them in full Romulan uniform with helmets, the transporter chief  
thought he had made a mistake and immediately pulled out his phasor.  
Koval held out a hand as he removed his helmet.  
"It is us, Chief," he said wearily. "Commander Picard requires immediate  
medical attention."  
  
The transporter chief nodded, as he replaced his weapon.  
"Welcome home, " he said.  
  
  
T h e E n d  
(c) Jasjit Singh, 2000  
  



End file.
